Post Your Poetry

[Eva Yojimbo]

I found the old poetry thread, but it wasn't for this purpose, so here's another. I've just gotten into poetry recently, am reading Milton and loving it. Here's my first two attempts at the art-form. Both really different, but both inspired by metal albums! Please comment (positive or negative) since I'm a needy prick who needs others to pay attention to me. :)

Contradictions Collapse
(Inspired by the album ‘Contradictions Collapse’ by Meshuggah)

Contradictions collate
Silently and imperceptibly
Embryonic ember
Blazes black and bleakly dim

Contradictions collide
Erratically and emphatically
Pacifistic pillars
Can’t withstand the shaking land

Contradictions collapse
Collectively and Infinitely
Monolithic mountain
Frailly fractured crumbles down

Enigmas in miasmas grow
Evolving in complexities
Enveloping the world in webs
Tangled up in threads of red and
Waiting patiently
The watchful parents of this monstrosity

Precious prescience abnegated
Won’t prevent annihilation
Paralyzing Ignorance and
Recapitulation breeds the
Greed machine calls and
Choirs of devastation heed and lead the dirge

Cadaverously marching on
Towards the cavernously mind
Carnivorously crazed but kind
Contentiously devouring all
Amidst the abyss
Screams and cries ‘We’ll never see the day's demise’

Rain that falls, drops that drip
Feet that walk will surely trip
Sordid ground that sinks in mud
That swallows earth in cleansing blood

Blood that spills, beasts that scream
Men that cry will surely dream
Heavens far away it seems
And farther yet is hopeful gleam

Gleams of light, Dawn that breaks
Welkin kind must surely wake
Dreams that held thee in suspense
Are gone but yet…

Anthems to the Welkin at Dusk
(A Sonnet Inspired by the album title ‘Anthems to the Welkin at Dusk’ by Emperor)

Welcome welkin kin, your spread majestic
Your dusky guise that gazes down divine
Anthems to thee I warmly croon and sing
Wrapped in your lazy embrace do I find
Myself content to float on Ariel’s wing
Colors subfusc but drear do not I feel
Your pensive atmosphere to which I kneel
Carry me far away from ticking time
To palaces with riches far from mine
And to thee will I ode this humble rhyme
And praise thine mystic powers line by line
What meaning does this have this restless thing
That drives men to divulge their souls that ring?
Lines that stray to myth return domestic

[Zuggy]

I put my eggs in a pan,
which is all nature,
I choose the crudest of materials,
but I ain't gonna tell ya!
While the yellow of the eggs only looked like the sun at first,
after a while,
they were burned to a crisp,
and they became that big sunny disk,
with a smile!

[Eva Yojimbo]

That's cute, Zuggy!

[CorporalChaos]

In before Enki v2.0 I post
But after Zuggy's cute little post not about toast.
You see, deep down I am a poet
I'm sure you all didn't know it
I can make an awesome rhyme
Every single time.

TC;DR: in b4 enki

[NAveryW]

Here's one I wrote when I was 14 or 15 (I think I was 15). I don't think I've ever posted it online before. It's rather Lewis Carroll-style, but not intentionally. The opening line certainly semi-consciously came from The Walrus and the Carpenter, though.

"So, let us come," the walrus said
And toiled and twithed and torked.
Yet no one ever came,
and nothing ever worked.

The walrus slithered softly, softly,
Not to hear the word.

The word, the word! What was the word?
Lost amidst the squill!
But nothing ever came of it,
And nothing ever will.

The walrus slithered slowly, soundly,
as its purpose blurred.

The love was lost, the slish was lost,
and slished and sloshed and slid!
But nothing ever came of it;
Nothing ever did.

The walrus stopped abruptly... sharply...
Never to have heard.

I'm still not sure whether I like it or not. My mother loved it, though she loved lots of terrible crap I made. My 10th-grade English teacher seemed to enjoy it when I recited it as an assignment, though I didn't mention that I wrote it.

[Zuggy]

A. Kaflan is a jerk!
He tells you secrets with a smirk,
he's so new agey,
and a bit flaky,
but you'll want to believe him, maybe.
Unless you ignore him playing with his 4D and 5D cubes,
you'll be left without a clue!
A. Kaflan is a jerk!

[Eva Yojimbo]

Here's one I wrote when I was 14 or 15 (I think I was 15). I don't think I've ever posted it online before. It's rather Lewis Carroll-style, but not intentionally. The opening line certainly semi-consciously came from The Walrus and the Carpenter, though.

I liked it NAvery, but I'm probably no more skilled a critic than your mother.

[V]

yes, I am...."aware" of Milton:

http://evageeks.org/FGP/Template:Copyright
http://evageeks.org/FGP/index.php?title=Template:Copyright&action=history

"Subtle, he needs must be, who could seduce Angels" -- Paradise Lost



though Verily, I also often Volunteer to say, Verbatim, such Verbiage as:

No bird soars too high, if it soars with its own wings -- William Blake, The Marriage of Heaven and Hell

"Abashed the Devil stood, And felt how awful goodness is, and saw Virtue in her own shape how lovely; saw, and pined his loss." --Paradise Lost

[zimlord]

Here's something recent from me, real hip and jazzy, no less:

Oh glimmering trumpet.
I spy you and your reverent family of brass across the lounge.

Your mouth is open
preaching the good word
to us infidels.

The gospel according to Dizzy Gillespie.
Or maybe—Genesis.
We turn to page one, and read—no, listen:
“In the beginning there was sound.”

“And it could swing.”

“And from this symphony of pure pandemonium came Man
A Being born of Treble Clef and Bass.
Who, one fateful day, would take flats and sharps from the tree of improvisation
And in turn
Deny the key of C three times for musicality unbound by convention--
Musicality with which he would persecute blasphemers and false prophets
or
Those who just happened to be tuned in to a different station.”

And yet through this imperfection came a veneration.
A certain regard for breaking constraints:
A popular pastime of the jazz-house poet, no less.

And so tonight I sit here.
In my usual spot
In my usual way.
With my usual drink.

And it is here that pray.
In my pew of smoky, frayed leather
Before the altar of warm brass tones.


Tones that tell a sermon—


A sermon quite unlike any other I have ever heard.

EDIT: i usually perform my poetry, a la contemporary Spoken Word

[Barinax]

my heart drowns in a pool of sorrow and conformity.
my only friends... are razorblades.

-

king and queen, a pair, two
too deep four five six six SIX seven uh uhh eight uhhh oh my god uh uh nine, six nine and of course ten aaaaahhhhhhh oh f... jack jack, joker, jack

ace


How does this poetry thing work again

[IrkenEvangelion]

my hearts drowns in a pool of sorrow and conformity.
my only friends... are razorblades.

That's uplifting...

EDIT: Yes, good poem zimlord. music=life.

[NAveryW]

Quite nice, zimlord.

[Barinax]

my hearts drowns in a pool of sorrow and conformity.
my only friends... are razorblades.

That's uplifting...

[IrkenEvangelion]

Lol, it's not badd, short, sweet, and to the point ;)

[Barinax]

Lol, they were joke poems. I wrote them on a whim. But thanks though.

[TheAyanamiOtaku]

Here we go...I'll see what I can do

The Tragedy of Man's Best Friend

I need him, and he needs me.
He breathed life into me with his sweat and muscle and labor.
Taken from other life forms his selfish desires create me.
I am not ungrateful, simply pointing out.
Others do the same, again and again.
And companions upon companions I see.
He leaves, and I patiently wait for somebody else to arrive...you.
You arrive, with your family. We each understood the other...or so I thought.
You lived in my heart and body,
So that I may keep you company...or so I thought.
But you and your company did not.
Those rainy and foggy days were dreary, but you made a fire to keep me warm, and laughter from you and your family to fight off the darkness.
So I wanted to thank you.
First I tried to help set the tone with your loved one, but instead I freaked you out.
And the next day I turned on the television, and unsuccessfully tried to make dinner for you and your companions.
And the next day I tried to apologize by writing in your language on myself.
And the next day you invited a man that sprinkled water and chanted.
My companions, younger than I, tell me not to bother them, because
they simply are not ready to understand.
So sadly I let you go.
Months later you let me go, and you take your leave.
Years later a new one decides to live with me.
In me, and I do not try to contact her.
This new one is too busy outside with outisde, and doesn't talk with me much.
She isn't really like you at all. Well, I'll know you'll come back, probably just once.
To visit the first house you bought in San Francisco.

[IrkenEvangelion]

It's sweet but sadd, even if theres no reason to be, a house. And yet you can only feel things like that if it was written well. And it is written very well. Good job!

[Mr. Tines]

I shall so have to dig out my school poetry prize winning poem from c1974...

[Zuggy]

This thread demands the return of Oblivious!

[Eva Yojimbo]

A new one by me:

An Experiment in Surrealism

A penguin plies peering round and found a toaster tying the bed
On icy flying free I find my mind tomorrow’s knee needs surgery
Crazy tee concocts at me and mocks me to the ground it seems
The longest word was when flies circular motions in the dirt
Gaze long and prosper Spock my doctor Scotty Kirk and Morrison
Star Wars Treck across a deck of twine pines mildly for his skirt
Feeling mired in a tire rolls and reinvents the wheel that girds
My loins hurt badly two much time to rewind that cat tails nine
That catches in the fan and spins around a room and lands on heads
It pees a drop of rain on me a little bit of Alexandrian history
Grin like rooster in the morn on gate above grass where I sit and mourn
Love lost Shakespeare, where’d he go, he died before Milton stubbed his toe
I think I lost the point or pointless I made it either one Lipchitz don’t care
Sense making cents makes me rich beyond the ephemeral Kant’s critique of reason
I bleed a purple ooze that sprouts a flower like that myth, you know the one
Sartre’s nauseous I find that ironic or I just don’t know the meaning of the word like everyone
Twins tingle my tinny bibs with Exorcist pea soup that covers my bill
My duck left me for the pool of my neighbor, I hate that fat punk
How does one end a send or writing typing is there a difference anymore?
Not words but written spoken lighten my load or my toad will frighten
But back to the end I have to find it and since this is too easy I’ll just stop